Music > Live Reviews
The Wildhearts - Massive Wagons - Towers of London
The Adrian Flux Waterfront
11/05/19
The Wildhearts first entered my consciousness in 1989. Ginger had been kicked out of the Quireboys and decided The Throbs were not for him before forming what was initially a sleaze rock supergroup along with members of Tattooed Love Boys, Soho Roses and Tobruk I saw them in the very early days when they were an out of time, out of tune mess and not - like, say, the Heartbreakers - in a good way. Several line-up changes and a year or two later, they were one of the most exciting bands on the scene. The energy of punk, the brutal riffing of Metallica and Cheap Trick harmonies made a winning formula. LPs and singles troubled the charts but drugs, mental health problems and an ever-changing line-up - at least nineteen members by my reckoning - scuppered any real chance of mainstream success. I lost touch with them in the mid-90s and now, 25 years since I last saw them, a catch up is long overdue.
First up, we have TOWERS OF LONDON. Having formed in 2004, released two albums, been the subject of a TV series on Bravo, had celebrity punch ups and scaled the wall of the Big Brother house before going on hiatus between 2008 and 2015, I am expecting them to be arrogant, obnoxious and annoying. Kicking off with I’m A Rat, it is soon clear that I am wrong. This is bratty, snotty glampunk, combining Sham 69 with Hanoi Rocks with the boiler suited image being a negative picture of Adicts. Drummer Snell is the best thing about them, playing like the bastard son of Hanoi’s late, great Razzle and Muppets’ Animal. Original it ain’t but it is fun and, for 60% of the set, borders on great. Trouble is, it ain’t all that good. Hell, there are even straight lifts from Bucks Fizz’s Making Your Mind Up in one song and Spencer Davis Group’s Gimme All Your Loving in another. That said, I definitely want to see them again and hope they come back to Norwich soon.
I can’t say the same about MASSIVE WAGONS. They are not shit, in fact they are very good at what they do. They are clearly talented musicians who are passionate about their music. Most of the audience thoroughly enjoy them and the teenage me would have loved their brand of unreconstructed classic rock meets metal, with its synchronised head banging, flailing hair, thundering drums and wailing guitars. At their best, they mash AC/DC’s heavy boogie into Judas Priest style powermetal and a friend has described them as the saviours of classic rock. I kinda get that, I kinda see the attraction but it leaves me cold. Sorry guys, it is just not for me. Sorry guys.
And now for THE WILDHEARTS. Featuring Ginger, CJ, Danny and Rich, this is arguably the classic line-up. Opening with a new song, Dislocated, might be a brave move but the band have the crowd absolutely on their side from the start of the eighteen song, 90 minute set. Up front, Ginger is looking healthier and happier than I can remember, seemingly genuinely taken aback by the reception from this crowd. CJ may not be the quite the ball of energy I remember but still bounces around with more vigour than most guitarists half his age. Rich is an absolute dervish on drums. Danny is not as mobile as he was and looks to be in some pain towards the end - perhaps unsurprising given he lost a lower leg following an aneurysm back in 2015 - but appears to be enjoying himself.
Although the styles may not be wholly comparable, there is something about this that reminds me of Stiff Little Fingers and Motörhead: I mean, what other gigs would see metalheads rubbing shoulders with punks and teenagers mingling with retirees, all displaying complete devotion to the band? Picking standout tracks is nigh impossible but I have to go for Everlone, the mighty Caffeine Bomb and My Baby Is A Headfuck. Here’s hoping new album Renaissance Men is the beginning of a true renaissance for the Wildhearts and they can finally settle into a period of calm and good health after the turbulent past.